


The Most Painful Affliction

by alykapedia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person, is there a point to this? probably, some viktor feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: You called him Eros and he gave you Agape.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to try my hand at some 2nd person pov and somehow ended up with this half-coherent mess.
> 
> title is from 'eros and psyche' because of reasons.

_It starts like this:_

 

 

You are twenty-seven and the gold on your neck only weighs you down; another leash around your throat threatening to suffocate you. You are twenty-seven and alone on the ice, trapped in a cycle of your own making, carving a plea that no one sees.

You are twenty-seven and you are so, so tired because despite the songs they wrote about you where they call you a god and whisper your name like a prayer, you are but made of the same flesh and bone and fragility of humanity.

Ichor does not run through your veins.

 

 

_It starts like this:_

 

You are twenty-seven when you meet a god at a banquet. 

(" _Da_ _nce with me, Viktor!_ ")

He is beauty and grace even in drunken revelry and he reels you in with smiles that make your shriveled heart beat for the first time in a very long time. He laughs and the ice in your lungs chip off and you learn how to breathe without suffocating on the world's expectations. 

He touches you and breathes life into your suddenly hungry mouth, makes you into something new, something in his image.

(" _B_ _e my coach, Viktor!_ ")

And then he leaves.

  

 

It starts like this:

 

The days pass and he doesn't come back and you're left grasping at the memory of his smile and his touch. He takes away his warmth but gives you a song that rages inside you, waiting to be let out.

You dance of the fire he ignited in your bones. You tell the story of how he pulled you in with smiles and touches that had you wanting more before leaving you out to dry. How he arrived in your life like a hurricane and how you, with your flimsy defenses, never stood a chance.

You dance of the spark he gave you, the little seed in your heart that you'd painstakingly nurtured with clumsy hands, trying to coax out the feeling that left you breathless and your heart beating hummingbird fast when he held you in his arms. You dance of a love that nurtures and sustains you. A love you never thought possible before he came barreling in.

You try to move on. You fail. You cannot remove his phantom grasp on your mind, on your heart, nor do you want to. You content yourself with loneliness.

Except he comes back and answers the plea you carved on the ice.

(Yuuri Katsuki tries to skate Viktor Nikiforov's FS: "Stay Close to Me")

You think you love him.

 

-

 

_It goes like this:_

 

You find him in a homey little inn in the middle of nowhere and he is nothing like the sparkling being you met back then. He is soft and unassuming, a tempered heat that's just out of reach. And you wonder idly if this is your punishment for daring to want him and claim him as yours just as he'd done to you.

You want to keep him. You want to be his. You want to strip him down and lay him bare, peel away the layers until you see into his heart and claim it for yourself.

(" _What are you doing here?_ ")

But he doesn't let you. 

(" _I just want you to be yourself, Viktor._ ") 

At least, not at first.

 

 

 

_It goes like this:_

 

You learn him slowly; in increments, in little smiles and small touches. In the glint of his eyes that tells you everything and the curve of his lips that tells you nothing. You learn that the god you met on the dance floor is a skittish thing made of the same substance that you are made of. You learn that his heart breaks as easily as glass and that his tears are the most painful thing you will ever see. You learn that his heart was always yours to do with as you please.

You learn him like a song, like a dance, and in turn, he takes your hand in his and shows you how to live just like he showed you how to love.

(" _It's a good luck charm._ ")

 

 

 

_It goes like this:_

 

You are twenty-nine and you are his as much as he is yours. 

(" _I do._ ")

 

 


End file.
